


He's Hers

by wickedwitchcraft



Series: Yennskier Prompt Fills [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: 'whispers' but so is yennefer, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Nightmares, jaskier is just... real passionate guys, these are all saparate thingies i should have said that at the beginning, ya know what that is? growth.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24039082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedwitchcraft/pseuds/wickedwitchcraft
Summary: whats up its me your worst nightmare ;) here to request 14. “I-I miss your arms around me as I slept, I know it’s embarrassing but you made me feel safe.” with yennskier (maybe yen saying it?) (geralt who, fuck geralt)
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Yennskier Prompt Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734055
Kudos: 40





	He's Hers

They’d gotten close after the mountain. Yennefer had found him after everything. He’d been sitting under a tree, arms wrapped around himself, tears falling from glazed eyes as he stared at nothing. She’d watched him for a long moment, not sure if she should say anything. She watched him wipe at his face roughly, sniffling and then holding himself tightly once more. He’d taken a deep breath, trying to gather himself, but when he’d breathed out again a guttural sob had escaped him, and the pain and sorrow that washed over Yennefer had moved her forward.

He jumped when her hand fell to his shoulder. Blue eyes looked up at her, full of pain and confusion. She’d looked down at him, knowing her eyes were much the same. She pressed her fingers down hard into his shoulder, he didn’t flinch, he didn’t grimace, he just looked up at her, and waited. The bard was lost, utterly. She looked down at him, for only a moment longer, looked into those sad blue eyes, and thought maybe she was lost too.

“Come with me.” She said. It wasn’t an order. Or a request. It simply _was_. She turned away from him and began walking. She wasn’t sure if he would follow her. Not sure how deep his loyalty was dug into him, even after having his heart ripped out of his chest. She walked, and walked, and walked. For how long she didn’t know, couldn’t remember, didn’t care to. And then she heard footsteps, following her, hesitant at first. And then Jaskier was beside her. His eyes on the ground, arms still wrapped around himself. She looked at him, looked at him so long that he finally looked back. She didn’t smile. She couldn’t. Not yet. She simply reached across the small space between them, took his hand, and opened a portal. They walked through it together, leaving the mountain far behind.

It took him months, to open back up. For the light in his eyes to return. But it had. And Yennefer’s heart beat faster and faster whenever she thought about the fact that she had helped return it there. Her heart hammered stronger when she thought about the other fact, the fact that he’d done the same for her. They’d been traveling. Moving from town to town, helping where they could. Jaskier had a bad habit of firmly reminding her that _she’d_ been doing the helping. He’d simply been playing a song here and there, completely lack luster, and earning them barely any coin. She had taken to firmly reminding _him_ that she was in no need of coin. And if she ever was, she had plenty of ways to get it without using him only for his talents. She tried to ignore the blush that had spread over his cheeks the last time she’d told him so.

She’d been having nightmares for years. As long as she could remember. Since she was a child. They’d come and go. Sometimes she’d go months without them. Pushing herself to exhaustion usually held them at bay. But she’d quickly discovered, during their travels, that Jaskier refused to let her do so. His eyes were _so_ keen. Eerily so, if she was being honest with herself. She wasn’t sure if he’d picked that up from Geralt, she had a feeling it was something innate to him. Just a part of him that he kept hidden, but let it show when he was looking out for those around him. He refused to let her push herself too far. Made sure she was resting, and eating, and drinking. If there wasn’t a… feeling, underneath it, she’d have called it mothering. But it was different. He simply cared. SO much.

She’d woken to his voice one night, not yelling at her, not screaming for her to wake up and stop disturbing him. He’d been holding her close, his deceptively strong arms around her, holding her still. His voice soft against her ear as she struggled and fought the things in her head. She’d calmed, and let him hold her, his arms relaxed, one hand going to her hair. He’d kept soothing her, even smiled at her when she’d looked up at him. He wiped a tear away that she hadn’t known had fallen. She’d stared at him for a long time that night, and he let her, uncharacteristically quiet. He let her look at him, and let her pull him closer, dragging his arms back around her as she turned into her pillows.

He’d crawled into her bed the next night, not wanting anything, he’d reassured her. He’d stammered through some explanation about him being there to keep her… calm. Hoping that maybe him being there from the start would keep the screaming away. She’d glared at him for a moment. Narrowed her eyes, tried to detect his intentions, and she’d found, once again, that they were exactly as he stated them. She wasn’t sure she’d get used to that. Had never met someone who almost always said exactly what was going through their head. She wasn’t sure if she liked it. But she’d let him stay, and he’d soothed her before the nightmares had dragged her so far under that she couldn’t breathe, and he’d held her all night to keep them away. Night after night he’d held her, and, slowly, the nightmares had faded, kept at bay by her strange straightforward bard.

And then she’d ruined it. She’d pushed him away. Because try as he might Jaskier could never _not_ pry. It was, unfortunately, in his nature. Where as self preservation, was not. He seemed to lack that all together, in every aspect of his life. He hadn’t even done anything wrong. Not really. He’d been acting out of care, as he nearly always did. All he’d done was ask her about her dreams. Holding her close one night, fingers deep in her hair. And she’d… overreacted. She hadn’t meant too. He’d only asked three times, the last two teasing, not really prying any longer. But she’d snapped at him, pushed him out of bed, and shoved him out the door.

He’d protested, flailing the whole way out. She could hear him standing outside her door. He’d stayed there for almost twenty minutes, softly saying her name a few times before giving up. She sighed and pressed her head against the door, shoulders drooping as she listened to his feet shuffle slowly down the hall.

He doesn’t come to her the next night. Nor any night after. He stays with her, friendly as always during the day. The only thing that changes is their sleeping arrangements, and Yennefer’s mood. The longer he stays away at night, the less she sleeps. The nightmares come back. On several nights, she wakes, having screamed herself awake and clawed herself from sleep, and she swears she hears him, on the other side of her door. But he doesn’t knock. He doesn’t say her name. And he doesn’t stay. She throws herself back onto the bed, berating herself for how sharp her mouth can be.

Two more weeks of no sleep and she snaps at him again. They’d just eaten dinner, the tavern serving a meal that was actually quite good. They’re walking up the stairs, to their separate rooms, when she stumbles. He grabs her elbow and steadies her, guiding her the few more steps to her door.

“You haven’t been sleeping.” He sighs, a statement, not a question.

“And who’s fault is that.” She hissed, brushing hair out of her face with a huff.

“I’m sorry?” Jaskier’s voice is tight, and low. He’s looking at her, his eyes blazing in the low light from the few lanterns lighting the hall.

“You heard me.” She grumbled, grabbing for her key in her pocket. His fingers wrap slowly around her wrist.

“You aren’t seriously blaming _me,_ for _you_ kicking me out, are you?” he’s glaring at her now, and her stomach flutters at the look in his eyes. She pulls her wrist away from him, and he lets her, her wrists slip easily from his fingers. She crosses her arms and looks at him. He raises his eyebrows at her.

“Well? Is that really what you’re implying? That it’s somehow _my_ fault that you kicked me out? Look I’m sorry that I asked you a question about your dreams okay? The gods should strike me down for caring!” he opens his arms dramatically, looking to the ceiling. She bites her lip as she watches him. His eyes fall back to her, his hands fall to his sides, and his body droops, he looks, shy.

“I was just trying to help.” His voice is quiet again after his outburst. His arms go to wrap around himself, she reaches out, hands grabbing _his_ wrists now, not wanting to see him hold himself that way, not because of her.

“I’m sorry I-“ she stops, her throat closing up, she has no idea what she’s supposed to say to him. She’s almost never sure what to say to him, he’s so odd. They have the banter down. Their back and forth is unparalleled across the continent. But this, this seriousness. She doesn’t know how to do it. Not with him. 

“What do you want from me?” he whispers it, like he’s afraid to ask it louder. She looks at him, and he looks right back.

“Yennefer? What do you want?” he asks again, shrugging his shoulders, palms wide at his sides. His eyes soften as they look at her. His face so open, like the rest of him. He’s always so open. With everyone. And she’d not been expecting that to carry over to her. But it had, he’d been so open with her, so caring, so trustworthy, even though he’d had no reason to.

“I don’t.. I just…” she sighed, huffing and flailing her hands in frustration, something she’d picked up from him.

“ I-I miss your arms around me when I sleep,” she said, grimacing when she sees Jaskier soften even more, and moves her eyes to the ground.

“I know it’s embarrassing but you- you made me feel safe.” She swallows hard, keeping her eyes away from him. She hears him huff out a laugh and can’t help but look at him. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s… grinning, at her.

“What?” she asks, crossing her own arms, defiance burning in her chest. He snorts again, opens his mouth around a smile and closes it again, shaking his head, his tongue lingering on his teeth as he continues to look at her, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Look. I know how I am, okay? I know that I’m…difficult. And I can be, backwards. And shut off. And-“

“Stubborn.” Jaskier supplies before she’s even done speaking. She levels a glare at him and he steps toward her.

“Pig headed.” He takes another step.

“Is this supposed to be helping?” she asks, her fingers twitching against her ribs. He cocks his eyebrow at her, that grin on his lips making her heart flutter.

“Lovely.” Another step, his hands reaching out, uncrossing her arms gently, removing her last layer of defense. She scoffs at him.

“Kind.” He whispers, pressing into her space, his fingers gently tucking her hair behind her ear, his thumb coming down slowly to trace the line of her jaw. She takes a deep breath, her heart pounding as he looks at her.

“Caring.” The word just a breath against her neck as he presses her to wall, nosing at her ear, humming when her hands tangle in his hair. She pushes him away, the smallest amount, just enough to reach his mouth, and presses forward.

The kiss is gentle. Softer than she’d expected. She’d seen him with women, and men. She’d seen the hungry way his hands had roamed and clung to them. This was nothing like that. He pressed himself into her, bodily, his hands wrapping around her hips and pulling her impossibly closer. His tongue moved over her lips and she gasped, letting him in with a sigh. She doesn’t know how long he kisses her. She gets lost in him, his hands, his hair, his mouth. All of them hers. She thinks, for a brief moment, that if this is a passing fancy for him, she may not recover. And then he licks into her mouth again, his thigh pressing between her legs, moaning into her mouth as she tugs at his hair gently. And she knows he’s hers. For as long as she wants him, or needs him. He’s hers.

He pulls back, breathing heavily, his forehead resting on hers. She looks at him, his lips red, his eyes shining, and she smiles. He smiles back, sighing again. He crinkles his nose and brushes it against hers with a laugh.

“And sweet too.” He breathes, his hands finding hers, lacing their fingers together.

“Lucky me.” He presses his lips to hers, chastely, opens her door for her, and pulls her through it. The laugh that passes her lips is pulled from her, ripped from behind her ribs by her lovely bard and his shining ocean eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy my darlings! i love this one. a lot. my kids are a mess, and i love them. i hope you like it guys!!!! <<<333


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